Haunted Mansion Anthology
by NordyGirl
Summary: The stories of all 999 Happy Haunts. Rating just in case. Enter, foolish mortals!
1. Edward Gracey

Author's Note: I got this idea while reading Edgar Lee Master's "Spoon River Anthology". Being an avid Haunted Mansion fan, I thought that each of the 999 Happy Haunts should have their own stories to tell. Thus, Haunted Mansion Anthology. Enjoy, foolish mortals!

I, Edward Gracey,

Once lived in a home full of hope,

Full of light

Full of joy.

My bride, Emily Ravenswood,

And I, were to be married on

A warm summer's night.

I eternally stare at her portrait,

From my perch in the ceiling.

Lovely, isn't she?

I received a note,

From her.

She had taken her own life.

Poison.

My heart became a hollow chamber

With no windows

And no doors

Foolish mortals

There is only one way out of

This anguish.

All you need to do is look up in the portrait gallery,

And there I am.

So here I am, the deceased Edward Gracey

Forever hearing the maniacal, delighted laughter

Of Henry Ravenswood

Who denied me my bride.


	2. Emily Ravenswood

Can a heart still break once

It has stopped beating?

My father, Henry Ravenswood,

Did not approve of my Edward.

He wasn't good enough, he said.

A mere, nouveau-riche shipping entrepreneur,

He said, not good enough for the owner of

Several properties in Thunder Mesa.

What happened to my father?

The one who always told me how lovely I was?

Well…he got his wish.

Beauty lives here still.

The day of our wedding,

He told me that Edward had lost his fortunes,

Gambling at his bachelor party.

And he couldn't handle not being able to support me.

So he hung himself.

But of course, I knew it was all a lie.

So here I am, forever searching for my Edward,

So that we can finally be joined,

In the eyes of God,

In the kingdom of heaven.


	3. Henry Ravenswood

I, Henry Ravenswood,

Was the richest man in Thunder Mesa.

During the rush of '49,

I struck gold,

And became obscenely wealthy overnight.

I soon came to own several properties in the town,

The store, the bank, the hotel, and so on.

I built myself a lovely house on the hill,

Where I could admire my properties from afar.

I showered my wife, Martha

And my daughter, Emily,

In every luxury and refinement imaginable.

One day, when my daughter was barely a woman,

Not more than a child,

She came to me on the arm of an Edward Gracey,

Whom she had met at a social.

She told me she was deliriously in love,

And that she would marry him.

He wasn't good enough,

And never will be.

I told him that she couldn't

Take the stress of marital vows,

And seasoned her wine with arsenic.

I told her that he had lost his pitiful

Excuse of a fortune

In a game of poker,

And hung himself.

I still wander the halls,

Making sure they never find each other,

Laughing delightedly at young Edward's misfortune.


	4. Martha Ravenswood

I never questioned him.

I certainly didn't approve of his actions,

But I never said a word.

I just stood there and tried to be a gracious host,

Even though I knew my daughter and future son-in-law,

Would never make it to their wedding party.

I was born Martha Bright,

And I married Henry Ravenswood in 1844,

Back when he had a heart.

It's no wonder they call it Fool's Gold,

For material wealth turned him into a fool.

How ironical, that my maiden name was Bright,

For my marriage never was.

Although I had every luxury imaginable,

And lived in the prettiest house you ever saw,

It was no secret, that Henry wasn't faithful.

He'd always go to the Saloon on Thursday's

To have a few rounds of whiskey with his clerks,

As he said.

And my dear Emily,

Whom I wanted so badly to be happy,

Never had the marital joy that I wanted her to have,

That I never had.

And I just sat there and did nothing.

Not even shedding a tear as I heard my daughter's

Mournful scream.


	5. Leota Gracey

"Let there be music!",

Edward would always say,

On every celebratory occasion.

My dear cousin, it is unfortunate

How his life ended,

For he was so full of promise.

He would always write on his party invitations,

"Dear, Sweet Leota, Beloved By All,

Will be Joining Us Tonight."

I find it comical, for I was not beloved by all.

The Gracey Family always thought me an oddball,

And accused me of nonsense whenever

Edward wasn't around to defend me,

And my gift.

"Mere trifling twaddle", the Graceys agreed.

But they don't understand my gift.

The spirits are everywhere,

Calling to us,

But it seems only I can receive their

Sympathetic vibrations.

How odd it should be,

The anniversary of the happy couple's death.

The guests are assembling for a swinging wake.

So, as my dear cousin said,

Let there be music,

From regions beyond.


	6. Emma Thackary

Dust, dust, and more dust.

That's all I did was dust,

And clean

And scrub

And toil,

Never being noticed by my master,

Never one thank you.

I was born to obey.

Whether it was Miss Marsh

In the Thunder Mesa schoolhouse

Or father, when he needed an errand.

I came to the mansion when

My parents died, of influenza,

Leaving me with nothing.

I married the butler, Ezra,

My only friend.

I died when sorting out the attic,

And choking on dust.


	7. Ezra Thackary

All my life, I wore a tuxedo.

All my life, I was dressed elegantly.

But never for the reason I wanted to be.

I married Emma, the maid,

And we both worked,

Hoping to finally be free of this occupation

And finally being able to wear fine clothing,

And not because we were mere housekeepers.

One day, I heard ragged coughing,

While dusting a portrait of the master.

I dashed up the stairs,

To find Emma choking on dust.

I died right then and there,

Of a broken heart.


	8. Constance Thorne

In 1873, I inherited the mansion,

From my uncle, Ambrose,

After my cousin Edward took his life.

I was wealthy in property,

But had not a penny to my name.

Naturally, there was only one way to solve this.

I married Horace Grover,

And became rich.

But of course, he was only a gentleman when he was sober,

Which was almost never.

So, one day, while he was asleep,

I hummed him a sweet lullaby,

As I held the chloroform-soak handkerchief over his mouth.

A year passed and my money soon ran out,

While paying debts.

So I married again.

Eugene Kissinger, an oil man,

But he loved oil more than he loved me,

And always came home with the smell of a prostitute's cheap perfume,

So, one day, while he was walking in the orchard,

I accidentally dropped an axe while trimming branches,

Beheading him.

Another year passed, and I married

Joseph Phillips, a banker.

He got into some trouble with a client's stocks and bonds,

And began drinking.

One night he came home with a pistol in his hand,

But in his drunken stupor,

He shot himself, and I laughed at his stupidity.

Another year passed and I married William Wetherall,

A lawyer, who was anything but law-abiding.

I stumbled one day on his collection of

Pictures of women, if you catch my drift.

So, while making tea for him,

I poisoned it.

A year later I married Mortimer Newton III,

Who was rather old, and a tad unstable,

But filthy rich.

But one day, his instability turned to madness,

And he strangled me.

How ironical.


End file.
